


Sweet Comfort

by machtaholic (cinderella81)



Series: Psych 101 'Verse [4]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mouth Sewn Shut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26799460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella81/pseuds/machtaholic
Summary: Malcolm gets kidnapped (again) by a crazed former student of his now-fiancee Clay Russell.  When he wakes in the hospital, Clay is there to comfort him.[Brief mention of violence - see the tags]
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Psych 101 'Verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558603
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Sweet Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in my [Psych 101](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558603) universe so if you haven't read it, this might not make sense

_Beep … beep … beep …_

The consistent, monotonous and oddly comforting beeping of the heart monitor was the first thing Malcolm heard when he finally managed to gain consciousness. He gave a low groan and shifted on the bed a bit, wincing at the dull throb of pain in his wrists and his mouth.

“Shhh, take it easy.”

His fiance’s voice washed over him and Malcolm hummed softly, slowly opening his eyes. He saw Clay sitting in a chair next to his bed and tried to smile, but ended up wincing.

“Yeah, that’s gonna hurt for a bit,” Clay said. “I thought I’d lost you - again. My M, my sweet, bright boy.”

Malcolm felt Clay’s hand on his cheek and leaned into the touch, sighing softly.

“Did they -” Malcolm winced at how much it hurt to talk. “Did they catch him?”

“Yeah, darlin’,” Clay said. “They did.”

Malcolm sighed again, humming softly when Clay’s thumb stroked Malcolm’s cheekbone gently. Malcolm tried to remember what had happened, to piece everything together. Malcolm remembered leaving the bookstore, having bought Clay’s latest book (had to support his fiance), but after that things got a bit blurry.

“What -” Malcolm winced again. “What happened?”

“Sure you want to know?” Clay asked.

Malcolm nodded.

“When I got home and you weren’t home, I immediately went to Gil,” Clay said. “They did their thing while I worried - I’m sure I drove everyone up the wall with my constant pestering. Your mother most have called Ezra because suddenly he was at our house keeping me sane as best he could. They found you a few hours ago and the EMTs rushed you here while Gil handled the arrest and processing of … Fuck, M, I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” Malcolm asked softly. He hesitantly licked his lips, giving Clay a small smile when Clay passed him a cup of water with a straw.

“It’s my fau -”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Malcolm said carefully. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known Thomas was an … obsessive stalker.”

“I’m a psychologist, dammit,” Clay said. “I should have seen it, especially seeing as he was one of my students my last year teaching. Looking back, I can see the signs, but why didn’t I in the moment?”

“Because you weren’t looking for them,” Malcolm murmured, careful not to move his mouth too much. “You were focussed on other things.”

“I still feel guilty,” Clay replied. “He did this to you because of me.”

“No, he did this to me because he’s ill and needs help,” Malcolm said. “He spoke, or rather ranted and rambled, quite beautifully about you. The cut of your jaw, the color of your eyes, the grey in your hair … he’s quite enamoured.”

“Oh I know,” Clay said. “Gil texted me with a few of the details while I waited for you to wake up.”

“I was in the way of him being with you,” Malcolm said. “An obstacle. So he had to get me out of the way.”

“But why didn’t he just - nevermind, I’m not going to finish that sentence.”

Malcolm hummed when Clay leaned in and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

“Because he wanted to see me heartbroken,” Malcolm murmured. “He wanted me to see you move on and be happy with him.”

“And the … the stitches?” Clay asked. “Gil only gave me the bare bones of Thomas’ ramblings - to protect the case, I’m sure.”

Malcolm winced at the memory of his lips being sewn shut - every prick of the needle had felt like fire and the stitches had been so tight that the barest of movements had only resulted in incredible pain.

“So that I couldn’t psychoanalyze, or talk him into or out of doing something,” Malcolm said. 

“Fuck.”

“But I’m okay,” Malcolm said. “I’m okay, Clay. A little pain, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Should put you in a damned bubble,” Clay said. “Hate seeing you hurt.”

“At least this time isn’t going to require nearly as many follow ups?” Malcolm said. “What did the doctors say about my recovery?”

“Now that you’re awake, we’ll probably be able to get someone to start the discharge paperwork,” Clay said. “As for the wounds themselves? The bruises on your wrists will fade in time and, with proper treatment, you won’t even have any scarring around your mouth.”

“Clay,” Malcolm whispered.

“Hmmm?”

“Get up on this damn bed with me,” Malcolm said.

“I don’t think the doctors -”

“Fuck the doctors,” Malcolm interrupted.

“Would rather fuck you,” Clay replied, cracking a small smile.

“Later,” Malcolm said. “Later. For now, please come join me on this bed and help me forget?”

A few moments later, Clay nodded and stood, sparing a moment to take off his shoes before climbing into the hospital bed with Malcolm.

“Can I put you in a bubble?” Clay asked softly.

“No,” Malcolm whispered as he carefully snuggled close, resting his head on Clay’s chest, humming at the sound of Clay’s heartbeat under his ear. 

“I’d live in the bubble with you,” Clay said.

“Tempting, but no,” Malcolm murmured. “Shit’s going to happen, especially considering who my father is. And you might have some crazy fans coming out of the woodwork too - not just from when you taught, but fans who follow you because of your books.”

“Comforting thought,” Clay muttered.

“I won’t stop my life just because of our collective pasts,” Malcolm said. “I still intend to marry you in six months. Nothing is going to stop that.”

“Damn right, darlin’,” Clay said. “Going to officially make you my bright boy.”

“Can’t wait.”


End file.
